


what kind of future

by daykid



Category: SEVENTEEN (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous/Open Ending, Character Death, Dialogue Heavy, Implied/Referenced Suicide, Light Angst, M/M, Maybe Medium Angst, Non-Linear Narrative, Time Loop, Time Travel, lightly medium angst, slash fic but its not rlly about romance
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-10-10
Updated: 2020-10-10
Packaged: 2021-03-07 16:09:21
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: Major Character Death
Chapters: 1
Words: 5,713
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/26870425
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/daykid/pseuds/daykid
Summary: Working at the diner is a lot like clockwork. Time seems to slow down there and go all too fast at the same time. Seungkwan finds himself in the middle of an out-of-body experience in between the milkshake machine and deep frier. White linoleum tiles blend into something that’s not quite right, but not quite wrong enough to warrant taking the day off.He figures it’s probably just his head and the brain inside it that hasn’t felt like his own for a while.(In other words, Seungkwan finds himself stuck in a time loop.)
Relationships: Boo Seungkwan/Chwe Hansol | Vernon
Comments: 6
Kudos: 15





	what kind of future

**Author's Note:**

> cw heavy themes, major character death (implied suicide), explicit language
> 
> fic includes a lot of talks about life and death
> 
> title from "if I am given a second life" to woozi's solo, beta-d but not very intensely, forgive me for any mistakes!

“Seungkwan, wake up.”

“No.”

“What do you… get over here, dork.” Vernon laughs after feigning irritation. He then rips the blanket Seungkwan is using right off the bed. Cold morning air rushes in, making goosebumps rise all over Seungkwan’s skin. He groans dramatically.

“Can’t I sleep for just five more minutes? Why do you hate me?” he whines.

Vernon clicks his tongue, “five minutes more then we’d be running behind on schedule, it’s already seven thirty-five and we have to get coffee at eight.”

Seungkwan cracks an eye open at that, just to make sure his friend isn’t lying. He glances over at a clock hanging on the wall, and sure enough it reads seven thirty-five— well, thirty-six now. He only has fifteen minutes to get ready since the walk to their usual cafe took up the remainder of that time.

“Are you kidding me?” Seungkwan cries out, rolling off their shared bed onto the ground. The fall is cushioned by the blanket Vernon left while he goes off to do whatever he does in the mornings.

Seungkwan and Vernon moved in together following the end of high school; they never really saw a reality where they weren’t going to do that. It’s been their dream since middle-school (“Just two besties hanging out everyday! That’s so cool!”) and worked out just fine with the routes they ended up taking in life. They didn’t have to compromise anything; Vernon is still in school and does producing on the side to help pay for it and Seungkwan works overtime at a local diner while still figuring out what he wants to do in the future. It’s like being between jobs, but with majors. That being said, he’s been in between majors for two years now, with seemingly no end. Not that it matters, he has his whole life ahead of him to figure it out.

Their apartment is quite homely. It’s as big as it can be on a broke student wage in an okay part of town that’s nearby anything you could want. They made some financial decisions for “the better good” (ie. to save money) which included only buying one bed, wearing one-size-fits-all clothing, and sharing a netflix account. Which, to be frank, is just how everyone lives these days. Their living room slash kitchen slash dining area boasted several plants and brightly painted walls, so it never feels like a dull moment.

Seungkwan picks himself off the ground and stumbles over to the closet, putting on his uniform for work. He wears a worn dress shirt and red apron, but he saves putting on the apron for when he arrives at the diner, so people on the street will think he’s an accomplished law student like his parents want him to be. Once dressed, he heads over to the bathroom, where Vernon is brushing his teeth. Seungkwan grabs his own toothbrush and they stare forward into the mirror in silence, shoulders brushing up against one another in the small space.

When Seungkwan is done, he reaches for a cup of water to rinse the same time Vernon spits out his toothpaste, the latter’s head bumping into Seungkwan’s arm and causing water to spill over both of them.

“Vern!” Seungkwan scolds, “Do you even use your eyes?”

“You know there’s no space in here and I was here first,” Vernon frowns, water dripping down his chin onto his shirt. Seungkwan finds it infuriating.

“That doesn’t matter. You didn’t say anything when I came in. Ugh, now I have to go change.”

Vernon just nods, unaffected, “Well, hurry up or we’ll be late.”

“I know that.” Seungkwan clips before slipping away back into the bedroom. By the time he’s out, Vernon is waiting at the front door with his shoes on. They stare each other down, anticipating what’s about to happen.

Vernon starts, “Odds out of three. One, two, three—”

“Two!”

“Two!” Seungkwan says at the same time as his friend, which means he loses. He makes a discontented sound, then: “C’mon, three is such a small number, it’s easy for you to win.”

“Well then tomorrow you can get ready first and choose the number,” Vernon says, happy with himself, it just kind of irritates Seungkwan further, “today you’re paying, no but’s.”

The older sighs, walking over to put on his shoes. He's lost their daily game of odds for five days in a row now, the morning cafe running a deep hole in his wallet. But what is fair is fair, and he’d rather fork up breakfast for the both of them than wake up just five minutes sooner than usual. It's fine. There is nothing to be upset over, Seungkwan tries to reason with himself.

He takes his time putting on his shoes though, just to be a bit annoying.

They’re across the street from the cafe a minute behind schedule, but they get there nonetheless. The early morning atmosphere of downtown Seoul is frenzied and frantic, people crossing every which way on their way to work, to school, to cafes, in their case. The light is red, but Seungkwan decides there’d be no harm in trying to save time; so, he steps onto the crosswalk.

Luck, though, is not in his favour. Seungkwan hears a honk from his left, and turns just in time to see a car barreling down the street. He feels completely frozen in place, like how the people in movies do, where time slows down and your life flashes before your eyes before death.

Except Seungkwan doesn’t see anything, because he’s led a pretty insignificant life so far, and he doesn’t die either.

A hand reaches out and pulls Seungkwan back by his wrist. The force is enough to make Seungkwan tumble back into his saviour, who he realizes is Vernon as they fall to ground with a grunt. People around him ask if he’s okay, pull him to his feet, a baby cries down the street.

Vernon pays for breakfast despite winning earlier. He asks Seungkwan why he’s shaking, and the latter blames it on his coffee.

Working at the diner is a lot like clockwork. Time seems to slow down there and go all too fast at the same time. Seungkwan finds himself in the middle of an out-of-body experience in between the milkshake machine and deep frier. White linoleum tiles blend into something that’s not quite right, but not quite wrong enough to warrant taking the day off. Seungkwan figures it’s probably just his head and the brain inside it that hasn’t felt like his own for a while.

Eventually he’ll leave the diner when it’s already dark outside, which, lately, has been happening sooner and sooner. The days have grown short, sometimes not occurring at all if Seungkwan is working in the kitchen shift. He tries not to let that bother him too much. The cold that seeps into his bones is just another way to tell the time.

“I’m home,” Seungkwan calls out when he arrives at the apartment. He’s met with silence and figures that Vernon is probably sleeping on his desk again, so he doesn’t mind. After prying himself out of uniform, Seungkwan walks over to the other bedroom which they had repurposed into a recording studio for, well, recording things.

Just as Seungkwan anticipated, Vernon is dozing off on a pile of papers scattered across his desk. There’s a few things there: lyrics, sheet music and homework from school. There’s even a few useless things like pictures of them together and old birthday cards.

Seungkwan just smiles to himself and nudges Vernon awake.

“Hey,” the younger says, looking up at Seungkwan through his bangs.

“Hey to you too,” he says warmly, “wanna head to bed now?”

“What time is it?”

Seungkwan checks his watch, “a little after ten, we have to clean up a bit before, though. Have you eaten yet?”

Vernon shakes his head, Seungkwan scolds him for not taking care of his health, and everything they do falls into place easily. It’s almost a bit too easy, the motions, but they commit to them anyways. Eat, sleep, joke around, fight every once in a while, and do it all over again.

Seungkwan figures out he’s stuck in a time loop after a few days.

The second morning he wakes up and everything goes exactly how it did the day before, his mind let’s it all be explained by coincidence and a strange case of deja vu. On the third morning, Seungkwan asks Vernon if he notices anything strange, to which his friend replies with only a shrug.

A week in, Seungkwan starts experimenting with alternate choices in the predetermined routine, like picking a different number for odds or dodging Vernon’s head while they’re in the bathroom together to avoid a spill. Eventually, Seungkwan realizes that no matter what he does, nothing carries over into the next morning.

There’s a lot of things a person can do with that information.

Seungkwan uses the concept for his own personal desires. He skips work more often than not, does things like eating out at expensive restaurants and maxing out his credit card instead. He adopts a dog a month later, but when the dog disappears the following morning, he figures he shouldn’t try out alternate realities that’d hurt him.

That sentiment doesn’t stop Seungkwan from telling Vernon he loves him.

It’s not the grand affair all their friends imagined it would be many years ago, when they were all in highschool discussing crushes. It almost goes unnoticed. Seungkwan thinks that maybe Vernon had already known, and he was just allowing time to bless him with good things. He was like that: non-confrontational and patient. _A deadly combination_ , Seungkwan’s mother once told him. But to that he would say, if anyone had the horrible personality, it would be Seungkwan instead.

He thinks he’s selfish for taking things just because he can, just because it doesn’t matter. He keeps telling Vernon that he loves him anyways, even though he feels like it should matter.

Things are kinda fucked up, honestly.

One day, they’re at a beach. Seungkwan leaves his shift early that afternoon to meet Vernon so they could catch the sunset. He remembers a distant past where he stays curled up like a fist behind a cooking stove protesting the coming of night. Now, it’s so much easier for him to just go outside and see the sun, remind himself there is a little more to life than just getting by.

Motivational platitudes can only get you so far, though, and Seungkwan finds that his new routine of ditching work is just another way of passing the time. There’s nothing so groundbreaking about playing hooky, he just does it because there is nothing else he could do.

The beach isn’t crowded, in fact, there is hardly anyone there. Seungkwan and Vernon find a space for them to tuck themselves away in right by the shoreline. They set out two chairs and let the silence take over. Seungkwan can’t tell when they started holding hands, but he likes it so he doesn’t say a thing.

The sun creeps away and over the horizon. The waves crashing along the shore are loud.

“Kwan?” Vernon asks after a while, his hand still gripping Seungkwan’s loosely.

A pause, then: “Yeah?”

“I’ve always wanted to go away for the weekend,” the younger confesses, “with you, of course. If we had the money.”

“That would be nice,” Seungkwan agrees, because it’s true. A few days away from the noise of the world, where they could pretend to be different people who weren’t so discontented with life. “Where would you want to go?”

“Remember that big lake north from the old neighbourhood? The one between the mountains? I’ve always wanted to go, but you knew how my mom was.”

Seungkwan laughs with a little mirth and nostalgia, “yeah, she was a little crazy. But the lake? It’s so… mundane? I don’t know, if we’re planning a crazy one weekend getaway it should be something grand, right? Maybe Vegas.”

“You might be underestimating the pleasures of small towns,” Vernon says, turning to him, “there’s a little magic in each one. Something us city-goers could only wish to notice, but we can’t because we’re already used to everything being so in our face it’s hard to listen to the silence.”

“What are you talking about, you dork,” Seungkwan laughs, “are we supposed to have a little epiphany just because a town doesn’t have good signals and skyscrapers?”

Vernon shrugs, “It’s what mum always told me.”

Seungkwan sobers himself for a moment.

“And what’s this special something we’re supposed to realize, then?”

“I don’t know,” Vernon admits, “I guess one day we’ll have to go and see.”

The phrase hurts Seungkwan’s heart to hear, knowing that there will be no “someday’s” for them. But he doesn’t say this.

“Yeah, once you get enough money and my job lets me breathe for a minute,” he half-jokes instead.

And they look out at the beach ahead of them, imaging clear skies over the water and tall mountains encompassing the lake on each side.

Seungkwan imagines an epiphany; he tries to think of something so crazy that he’s never noticed before and would change his life forever. He tries and tries.

But nothing comes to mind.

Everyday Seungkwan gets more tired. He’s barely rested when the time loops back into morning, his eager roommate waking him at seven thirty-five without fail. The exhaustion grows exponentially, taking its toll moreso on Seungkwan’s mind than his body.

One day, Vernon tries to wake him a few times, and Seungkwan pretends he’s fast asleep. He pretends so well that his friend gives up and goes off to do his own things.

Seungkwan wonders if he’d wake up and everything would all be a dream.

In the meantime, he does his best to pretend.

The next morning is not like the others, but it starts out the same. They always do.

“Seungkwan—”

“Can you give me just five minutes,” Seungkwan mutters with irritation. He pulls the bed covers over his face trying to block out the sunlight.

Vernon doesn’t process his tone, “but we’re gonna—”

“We’re gonna be late. Yeah, I know. It’s already seven thirty-five and we need to go quickly so we can go to the cafe,” Seungkwan rambles on in frustration, “who fucking cares if I’m late for work? I don’t. And you know what? Fuck the cafe too. It’s just shitty overpriced coffee anyways.”

“I’m just trying to be helpful,” Vernon says, “you don’t have to get upset.”

“Don’t tell me what to do.”

“Well, somebody has to.”

Seungkwan darkens at that, “what is that supposed to mean?”

Vernon gives an expression like he wants the entire world to swallow him whole.

“I don’t know,” he starts, “you’re in one of your moods again. Like constantly leaving shit undone, always complaining, it’s just kind of annoying when I’m just being nice.”

Seungkwan can’t remember a time where he was like that. Perhaps it was before the loop started, with that version of himself being the only version Vernon knows. The idea is cruel, in his mind.

“You can’t blame me for that,” Seungkwan argues as he jumps to his feet, “it’s not my fault.”

“It’s your choice. I don’t see how it can be anyone else’s fault.”

“I can’t help if I don’t wanna do shit! I can’t make myself want to. You have no idea what I’ve been going through, I’m just—”

“You’re what?”

And then something in Seungkwan’s heart breaks.

“I’m just fucking tired.” he spits, pushing Vernon out of his way.

“What the hell is wrong with you?” the younger wonders out loud, all the heat in his tone running out.

“You wouldn’t understand.” Seungkwan frowns. He walks quickly into the bathroom, wanting to just be alone for a while, and locks the door behind him.

Vernon knocks on the door and Seungkwan tries to drown out the sound by showering. He runs the water cold, pinching himself all over.

“Wake up, wake up, wake up,” Seungkwan whispers to himself. The tears welling up in his eyes go straight down the drain. He keeps rubbing his eyes and pinching himself in some kind of masochistic agony for a while. And when he steps out, his body is red all over from the cold, skin like gooseflesh. He wraps a towel around his body, covering up little bruises that formed from his restless pinching which will be gone by tomorrow.

Seungkwan catches his reflection in the mirror, looking no older than he did hundreds of days ago. Yet, there’s a tired look in his eyes that he can’t take his gaze off of, and it pains him physically seeing himself in this state. When did he get so awful?

The tears come back, and they slide off Seungkwan’s cheeks onto the bathroom sink with little splashes. His hands grip the sides of it, knuckles white from trying to ground himself. But his knees feel so weak and he honestly just wants to go to sleep. So, Seungkwan sits himself on the tiles, unable to go outside, pride preventing. He sits there until the ache puts his muscles to sleep, mind following shortly after. And he sleeps there long enough for the bathroom to grow dark from lack of sunlight.

When he needs to put himself back into the world, Seungkwan tries to steel himself against all possible words of hate he could receive from his friend. He massages his eyes a bit to get rid of the swelling, and puts on whatever clothes he had on when he came in.

As he exits the bathroom, Seungkwan notices Vernon hunched over himself, sitting on the floor.

The sight makes him a little nauseous.

“Vernon…” Seungkwan mumbles, peering down at his friend through his bangs.

He doesn’t look angry, which is a good thing, but it doesn’t put Seungkwan’s heart at ease. He feels like he’s at the tip of a rollercoaster, waiting for everything to drop all at once. But the shock and sensation of his heart leaping out of his chest never comes, because that has never been Vernon’s way of dealing with things.

Instead of yelling, Vernon asks Seungkwan, “do you wanna talk about it?”

He wants to say yes. He wants to tell Vernon everything, and yet this desire comes out of him in the form of a strangled cry and tears streaming down his face. To which Vernon deals with by holding Seungkwan in his arms as the latter falls onto his knees.

It should be easy to tell the person he loves what’s been plaguing him for months now, but it’s not. That sentiment goes for a lot of things. But the most important thing anyone can do in situations like these is just be there.

So Seungkwan asks Vernon if he’ll stay no matter what, and the younger replies with “you know you can tell me anything, right?”

He doesn’t reply.

Seungkwan can’t remember what life was like before the loop. His head has become so exhausted with carrying around new memories he couldn't hold on onto the ones he loves.

They all just slip away.

“You know Groundhog Day? Like the movie?”

“Yeah of course,” Vernon replies, chuckling lightly. They lay in bed together, the time inching close to midnight.

Seungkwan shifts under his blanket, suddenly self-conscious. He flips onto his side, avoiding eye contact.

“What if, hypothetically, you were in that situation… hypothetically.”

Vernon pauses to think, “Like a time loop?”

“Yeah. And you couldn’t get out, what would you do?”

“Well…” Vernon hums, deep in thought, “if you’re feeling stuck in your life… like things are on a loop and they’re not getting better? Hypothetically, you could try something new? It doesn’t have to be anything big, I think, we could start doing cooking classes or something.”

“What if it’s not something that small things can fix?” Seungkwan asks, his mouth moving faster than his brain. He wants to punch himself.

“What do you—”

“Like what if it feels like every day it doesn’t get any better and nothing changes and there’s also nothing I can do to change it? What do I do then?”

Vernon is still in bed next to Seungkwan. The latter almost regrets asking. He regrets it as much as it feels good to have it off his chest.

“I think,” Vernon starts, “I think when we feel this way, the only thing we can do is keep moving forward, no matter how hard it seems.”

The anxiety building in Seungkwan’s chest wants to spill out, choking him up.

“I don’t want tomorrow to come,” he whispers. It feels like a nasty confession, something wicked that has no place in their bed.

“I know,” Vernon replies, even though he doesn’t know the half of it, “but we’ll be here. It’ll come. It’ll go, and you’ll still be here.”

“And what about you?” Seungkwan asks.

“I’ll be here too. We’ll be here, together. Is that okay?”

A pause.

“Yeah. Yeah, that’s okay.”

Then, another beat of silence.

“Is there anything else you want to ask me? Hypothetically?”

“Uh, I don’t know ye all-powerful oracle,” Seungkwan jokes half-heartedly, trying to lighten the mood, “should I… oh, here’s one. Should I quit my job?”

“If it would make you happy, yeah.” Vernon says very honestly, “I don’t know how I’d feel having to see you all day but…”

Seungkwan laughs wetly at that, “oh shut up.”

“But seriously, we could make it work.”

In a perfect world, maybe. One where dream jobs were pinned to billboards and the only limits were your own charisma. In reality, they depend on Seungkwan’s shitty diner job income to keep them off the streets.

But this isn’t reality, Seungkwan remembers. And the last time he paid the bills was many yesterdays ago, back when yesterdays existed. So he entertains the idea, just for the night.

“I’ll put in a letter of resignation tomorrow.” Seungkwan says triumphantly, his heart feeling a little bit easier.

“Okay, tomorrow then.” Vernon mumbles back groggily, eyes already shut.

Seungkwan looks at him in the dark, like he has many times before. He wonders if he’ll ever get sick of seeing his face.

“Tomorrow,” Seungkwan whispers, so quietly that only he can hear, “I’ll figure out a way. I’ll get us out of here.”

He doubts it.

Dying is a solitary act. Seungkwan learns this during the usual speeding car shtick that occurs across from the cafe. He figures that being alive is the only thing that humans experience in the company of others.

“Are you afraid of dying, Vern? Do you believe in something?”

Vernon looks up from his coffee, “That’s a pretty loaded question.”

“I guess,” Seungkwan says, shifting uncomfortably in his chair. They’re having breakfast at home today, which is quite nice.

“But to humour you, no. It doesn’t scare me. The opposite is harder, sometimes. I don’t know about any gods though, or afterlives.”

“Me neither,” Seungkwan says.

“You know what my mom always used to say,” Vernon starts, “everybody has their own heavens.”

Seungkwan hums, pushing his food around on his plate, “So what’s yours?”

Vernon takes a minute to think.

“Our old neighborhood before we moved away. And summers in New York. Hmm… the same haircut everyday,” he laughs, “you know I hate getting it done. Maybe there can be a post office too.”

“For what?” Seungkwan asks as he chuckles at the absurdity, mood lightening a bit.

Vernon just smiles, “So I can send letters to yours.”

“Yah, Chwe,” Seungkwan scolds, feigning irritation, “when did you get so soft?”

“I’m not,” the younger says. After a comfortable pause, Vernon asks: “what about you?”

“What about me?”

“What does your heaven look like?”

And Seungkwan doesn’t really know what to say to that.

“I don’t have one.” he confesses and almost regrets it. His mind tells him that he should’ve said something cheesy instead like ‘my heaven is with you’, even if it was just to ease both of their minds. To bend to a hypothetical for fun.

But Seungkwan is well acquainted with the idea that heaven where nothing ever changes is not a heaven at all.

Vernon just nods.

“That’s okay,” he says, sipping his coffee, “it’s okay to not worry about those things. We can just be good.”

“Yeah,” Seungkwan replies, “you’re right.”

His heart hammers in his chest reminding him painfully that he’s alive.

“Vern?”

It’s been three hundred and seventy-two days since Seungkwan has been stuck in the time loop.

“Yeah?”

“Can we stay in today?” he asks. Seungkwan presses his eyes together tightly, willing himself to sleep with sheer force.

Vernon is quiet. Seungkwan doesn’t quite know what to make of that.

“Sure.”

So they stay.

Seungkwan struggles to quell the feeling in his stomach like he owes Vernon something. The little voice in his mind yells at him everyday for being selfish, demanding he give more and do more in his immortality than splurge on new clothes and fancy dates. Those moments were never for anybody but himself, since he is the only person who’ll remember them.

That thought is what drives him away from making any memories with Vernon. It just hurts more to be the only one who keeps their memories. Seungkwan also can’t deny how wrong it feels, like he’s just playing a game with Vernon’s emotions that’ll always be safe. They could fight and argue and Seungkwan could fuck everything up but in the grand scheme of things, it’s nothing. Come the next morning, he’d love him just the same.

However, today is different. Seungkwan wants to do something finally for somebody else in this stupid time loop world, and the only person he could ever think of making the effort for is Vernon. It’ll be like their last grandstand.

He remembers that the drive up to their old town is a few hours long. So, when Vernon wakes him up (at seven thirty-six, as always) he skips the pleasantries and immediately goes to pack some road trip essentials. When asked to explain what is going on, Seungkwan lays out the exact dream trip Vernon had told him many months ago on the beach.

“I’ve always wanted to go there.”

I know, Seungkwan thinks to himself, and continues packing.

The car ride is quite peaceful, complete with old music playing on the radio and the windows rolled down to feel the breeze. Vernon recalls old memories, and Seungkwan tries his best to tell stories that they both remember.

Eventually the city highways turn into small, country roads. They drive past their old town and into the bonafide countryside. As they drive farther, the buildings become smaller and trees grow taller.

They reach their destination a little after 2pm, sun still high in the sky. It’s a quaint little lake, bordered on every side by heaven scraping mountains and with an atmosphere possibly composed of pure, clean air. It’s kind of like a mini oasis, a little heaven.

Vernon runs to the edge of the boardwalk which oversees the entire lake. Seungkwan can hear his excited laughter fill up the entire world. It rings in his ears as he watches Vernon’s back, peering over the edge to the waves crashing on rocks bellow. He stays in place, seeing how his friend fit in the big picture, melting into the canvas of the mountains.

Then, Vernon looks back at Seungkwan as if he is more interesting than water swallowing up an entire shore. He looks as if Seungkwan is the epiphany to be found in the mountains and nothing else.

“Are you coming?” Vernon calls, smiling wide.

Seungkwan’s heart feels entirely fond. He realizes, in this moment, that maybe he’s finally ready to let go. It’s a crazy sensation, a feeling like his life was ending and starting at the same time. Like he knows where he’ll be tomorrow but is also so unsure of everything after that.

He wonders if he’s done enough.

“Yeah,” Seungkwan replies, “I’m coming.”

(They fall asleep in the back of Vernon’s pick-up, underneath the stars. They look exactly like the ones taped to the ceiling of their bedroom.)

“Seungkwan, wake up.”

“Hey Vern,” the man in question replies. He yawns once and throws an arm over Vernon’s torso, “let’s sleep in today, okay?”

Vernon moves closer with a sigh, “Don’t you have work?”

“I called in sick last night,” Seungkwan says as he smiles sadly, knowing he hadn’t at all, “so we can spend the day together.”

“You know I’m busy.” Vernon says back, but he’s smiling too.

“It can wait.”

“Okay.” Vernon nods, closing his eyes once more.

Seungkwan lays there for a second, drinking in the moment. Then, he whispers, “I have to go grab something from the grocery store if we’re staying in all day.”

Vernon groans, “Right now?”

“Yeah, it’s important. I promise.” Seungkwan explains, though there wasn’t much need as Vernon was already half asleep.

“Okay.”

“Just sleep until I get back, I’ll be quick.”

“Mmkay.”

Seungkwan stands in the doorway, hoping what he’s doing is right. He doesn’t say goodbye, knowing it probably wouldn’t matter.

He walks with more purpose than he has in the last few hundred days. He sees the cafe across the street, and for a moment he wonders if this will work at all.

For once in his life, there is silence.

There are no horns blaring, no tires screeching or people crying out for help. No noise of the city, as Vernon said to him hundreds of days ago.

Maybe this is the epiphany.

“Seungkwan, wake up.”

Vernon pushes the bangs out of Seungkwan’s hair, smiling to himself.

“No.” the other boy grumbles, burying his face deeper into their comforter.

“You have work today.”

“Mhm, it can wait.”

Vernon yanks the blanket out of Seungkwan’s grip, much to the latter’s chagrin. When Seungkwan finally agrees to be available to the world, they go through the motions. There is a certain peace to be found in that, in the things that don’t change.

They brush their teeth together, Seungkwan laughing obnoxiously when he spills water all over himself. Vernon scoffs when he loses their game of odds and has to pay for breakfast. Then, they travel to the nearby cafe together, this time pausing at the streetlight, taking their time. They eat, Seungkwan ordering a croissant and an americano while Vernon gets water. For a while, they talk; talk about the weather, talk about how work went the night previously, talk about everything and yet nothing at all.

And when Seungkwan is off at work, Vernon walks home alone. He lets his exhaustion creep back into his features, settling neatly into his muscles as if they never left. When he arrives, he walks over to his study table, and spends a while sitting there wondering what to do. After brief contemplation, he opens a drawer and pulls out an envelope with his name carefully written across the front. It’s Seungkwan’s cursive. Vernon knows what it says by heart, but he opens it anyway.

_Vernon,_

_Hey. I know that if you’re reading this it means I finally did it. I hope you don’t waste many tears on me, you’ve never been a terribly pretty crier. It’s important to keep yourself hydrated too, so take breaks between crying to drink some water!_

_In all seriousness, if I had to say anything among the many things I want to say, I hope this worked. I hope you’ve woken up on a new day, where you can do new things and meet new people. I know you said you’d trust me with anything, but I honestly didn’t know how well “I am stuck in a time loop that keeps repeating the same day over and over again and the only way to break it is if I die” would go with you. And even if I tried to explain it to you, I don’t really know anything about how it works. I tried everything. I woke up on this day 3,628 times trying to get us out. It’s almost been ten years. I mean, I’d wait forever, but you were always the one who had more patience than me anyways._

_I understand if you’re angry; honestly, you have every right. I just want to let you know though, that if you feel like you need to be frustrated and break things, it’s okay. By god, you break those fucking things. But after, when the anger has worn from your bones and tomorrow has come, don’t look back and regret it. That’s a loop in itself._

_I miss you already, and I love you. I hope you know that there was no other way. I hope you know that it’ll get better, and time will pass and maybe one day you’ll even forget about this day, and it’ll become just another day among many faded memories._

_Take care of yourself, take breaks, take your time. All you have ever done is give, it was about time I gave something back to you._

_I’ll see you soon._

_With love, Seungkwan._

Vernon, consumed by his unending exhaustion, falls asleep on the desk after folding away the letter. When he wakes up, Seungkwan is hovering above him, staring at the envelope. He didn’t even notice when he came in.

“What is that?” the older asks, smiling warmly.

Vernon wonders if he should tell him. He wants to tell him. He wants to tell Seungkwan it didn’t work. He wants to help him be free, but he doesn’t know how. He wants a lot of things, evidently.

“It’s nothing,” Vernon replies, “just an old birthday card.”

He wants but he can’t have; So, instead, he gives.

“Alright,” Seungkwan laughs lightly, “let’s head to bed then?”

Vernon nods, “yeah.”

And as they climb under the sheets, Vernon thinks about the letter.

“Seungkwan?”

“Yeah?”

“You go to sleep first,” Vernon says, “I’ll wake you in the morning.”

Then the room is awfully quiet, save for Seungkwan’s muffled snores, looking peaceful knowing that Vernon will wake him come sunrise.

He never does.

**Author's Note:**

> [cc](https://curiouscat.qa/bookkeu)


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